One-Night Truce
by upfrombelow94
Summary: Myrtle/Fiona smut. Set after 3x04. While Myrtle is desperately looking for evidence to take her enemy down, the Supreme pays her a visit that takes a surprising turn.


**One-Night Truce**

A/N  
This idea haunted me after rewatching the beginning of _Coven_. This is my first smut fic in a while but I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it! As always, I would appreciate any kind of review. Thank you!

 _\- Set after the Council visited the Academy to investigate Madison's disappearance in 3x04. Myrtle's attempt to prove Fiona guilty failed since Spalding had lied for her, leaving her furious. -_

Myrtle Snow had never been one to be deceived. That's why she was the Head of the Council, after all. Even as a young witch, she had been able to see through all of her fellow witches — even the Supreme. Myrtle knew exactly how Madison disappeared, and she wasn't going to let her enemy get away with it.

Myrtle let her mind race through all of the events blurred by the years in order to detect any additional evidence — starting with their first encounter, the first time Fiona had humiliated her in front of the whole academy, the night she had conjured up the most important truth spell in her life, and up until earlier today, when Fiona had humiliated her yet again by having Spalding blatantly lie for her.

While she was pondering on how to implement the measures necessary to reveal her enemy's reckless felonies and finally take her down, she found herself interrupted by an abrupt knock on her door. Pausing one moment to decide whether anyone with good intentions would appear at such an indecent hour, she resolved she couldn't possibly ignore the inquiry. When she eventually opened the door, she was greeted by a familiar concoction of conceited self-confidence and smoke-filled air that she had tried to escape her whole life.

"Myrtle," Fiona muttered.

Still slightly startled, Myrtle gestured for Fiona to come in without taking particular pleasure in her presence.

The Head of the Council let a laugh slip from her lips in disbelief, "What brings _you_ here?"

"I think we ended our little meeting," Fiona paused to inhale a deep breath of smoke, "on the wrong foot."

"Your lies from this afternoon may have saved you from burning at the stake for now but I know your intentions. I can see right through you."

"Oh, can you?" Fiona chaffed, making Myrtle slightly insecure.

The Supreme put out her cigarette on the table and positioned herself right in front of her in one, effortless move.

"Well, did you see _this_?"

Fiona slid her right hand down Myrtle's shawl-covered abdomen, immediately reaching her core. Given the unexpected nature of the move, the red-haired witch couldn't help but gasp in shocked pleasure.

Her first instinct now was to resist, but before any anger over the situation could be expressed, Fiona tightened her clutch, making her cringe immediately. The Supreme then grabbed her fiend's face almost violently and pressed their lips against each other.

Not sure whether Fiona's telekinetic skills had compromised her decision making abilities, Myrtle joined her in the fight that remotely resembled passionate kissing.

"Don't get too comfortable," Fiona warned her counterpart and withdrew her face.

Without any hesitation, the weakened witch then pushed Myrtle onto the large, cushioned arm chair right behind her and rolled up her entangled skirt with slight difficulty.

Myrtle could feel big, wet kisses being planted on her inner thighs. They slowly wandered up her legs and she could feel all of her senses and desires accumulate in the tiny spot that was her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Slightly arching her back and her hips towards the Supreme's mouth, the redhead was longing to have it pressed on her center.

Fiona was kneeling in front of Myrtle and tried to hold the fabric of her enemy's skirt out of her face while working her way up her thighs.

"I was wrong earlier. You still make terrible fashion choices," she teased, receiving an out-of-breath, air-filled laugh as response.

The blonde then took a moment to look at the witch's red panties, slowly letting her index finger slide over her core. She could feel how even the fair pressure evoked intense sensations in her fiend and enjoyed the silent moan.

Myrtle lifted her bottom without being asked to and Fiona removed the red obstacle ungently but effectively. She proceeded by coming as close to the redhead's cleft as possible without touching it. The Head of the Council could feel her seducer's breath on the most sensitive part of her body, making the longing for touch unbearable.

Finally, Fiona graced Myrtle's folds with a gentle, lengthy stroke of her tongue, followed by a kiss-resembling motion. Abandoning the gentleness, the Supreme began twirling her tongue up and down, dipping into her once or twice. Meanwhile, the redhead clawed her hands into the chair's fabric, feeling the tension in her body rise.

The blonde tasted her spit mix with Myrtle's fluids, and although she tried her best to ignore it, she felt her own center soak up gradually. Holding on to Myrtle's thigh with one hand, she raised her arm to place the other hand over her enemy's abdomen and directly on her nub, the fluids letting her fingers slide over it effortlessly.

Myrtle moaned in a mixture of despair and pleasure, alternating between pressing her hip up to Fiona's face and down towards the chair. Not allowing the escape, Fiona opened her mouth widely to take another swing at Myrtle's folds and accelerated the speed of her fingers on her clit.

The overwhelming, rising tension forced Myrtle to close her eyes. In the dark, she was faced with the ambiguity of needing to get release and, at the same time, not wanting to give her enemy the satisfaction of her reaching the height of pleasure.

Without being able to give it any more thought, Myrtle felt the tension turn into a choking rush of energy and pleasure. Her eyes now wide open, she braced herself on the chair and finally felt release taking over. Myrtle's heart was racing in her chest, more violently than she had ever experienced before.

Only when she felt the cold air on her wet center, she noticed that Fiona had stood up. Eyeing the blonde, the redhead let her head fall back in exhaustion, leaving her mouth slightly open to access any available extra air.

The Supreme had already lit herself another cigarette when she retrieved her purse and turned to her fellow-witch.

"I would say our issues are resolved for now," she declared in a satisfied and suggestive tone.

Slowly and elegantly heading towards the door, Fiona stopped only to let her hand brush over Myrtle's uncovered knee.

"You should probably," she grinned triumphantly, "get some rest."

Not offering any response, the Head of the Council remained in her position and merely listened to the door shut. She closed her eyes once more, the taunting possibility of Fiona having humiliated her yet again immediately occupying her mind.

THE END.


End file.
